One, Two, Three Strikes You're Out
by Momosportif
Summary: Novelist Pup's first place reward in the MomoSarah contest, prompt: A Yullen AU-type baseball fic. It's cracktastic so read at your own risk. I must say, NP, I feel your muse inspired me. Characters are Hoshino's. Advil is Advil's. Nicht ownage.


Congrats, Novelist, here's to you!

* * *

One, Two, Three Strikes You're Out

"Che! Che! Iie!" slender hands batted rough ones in a fierce battle of wills.

"Ah…" Tiny sneakered feet pattered into the entrance hall and a dingy mirror held a petite face as it paused for a half second to tuck white strands of hair under a handmade beanie. "Kanda…" The slightly strained features slipped out of the glass as their owner turned elegantly and flitted back into the living room, snatching a windbreaker from a coat hanger with mismatched prongs. Allen poked his head around the doorless doorway and rolled his eyes before entering. "Come now, Kanda…" Rough hands were joined by soft but unyielding ones and Kanda's head appeared from folds of cable stitched glory, irritated expression in place. Tiedoll lost no time in smoothing the infamous sweater while the two heads of house had a stare down.

"I hate this thing." Allen moved his hands to his hips, standing his full 168cm but offering no response. "I'm not leaving the house in this." Allen's eyes slitted dangerously, previous agitation transforming into unstoppable determination. Tiedoll's preening was now unnecessary but continued nonetheless, bespectacled head passing between the joined flinty gazes. "I will _die_," Kanda spoke short and with concentrated power, "before I wear this in public-"

"Right. And you know _why_ you're going to die?" Uke power was full blast now: foot tapping, eyebrows raised, the voice your mother used on you when you were ten and broke a dead plant pot in the hallway that your younger sister's kindergarten class had decorated for a school fair auction. "Because _I'm_ going to kill you!" Tiedoll tottered to a closet and began bumbling about its contents. "It is chilly outdoors, we have a long standing date, and the sweater looks right fine next to nothing so you best buck up, darling, and march!" Tiedoll returned to the two rowers and placed a baseball cap on Kanda's sleek, black head. The glares continued for several moments before Kanda leaned down and stole a quick kiss.

"God, you're cute when you're pissed off, come on-" Allen pouted and squeezed up against his escort as the cardigan clad arm hooked his.

"Thank you!" he piped as they strode out of their tiny duplex, hesitating to exchange 'grosses bises' with cohabitant Tiedoll.

"Have fun at the game!" The francophone waved blithely at the departing couple and Allen smiled kindly at him, waving back cheerily.

"Thank you!"

"Don't burn the house down," Kanda muttered receiving a smart smack for his cheek.

"I _do_ hope it doesn't rain," Allen commented brightly as they shut their short gate and took off down the sidewalk.

* * *

"Hmm…" Rustle, rustle. "Ah…hmm…" Squirm, squirm.

"Tsch…" Squeak, sque- "Allen!" Gray eyes looked sideways with slight alarm. "How difficult is it just to sit down in your bleacher seat?"

"Well-ah…" Kanda's eyes cut skyward before refocusing on the baseball diamond below him while Allen wriggled beside him. "I'm debating whether or not to take my jacket off…"

"Oh Jesus," Kanda breathed.

"See, I feel rather _okay_ right now, but I don't want to get too toasty…but I'm afraid I'll get too cool if I take my jacket off…I should have worn more layers…"

"Yeah, that's all you need- more layers."

"Hmm…" Shift, shift.

"For Hevlaska's sake, Moyashi! Just," Kanda gesticulated tersely, "do one or other and be done with it!"

"Okay, okay…" Allen replied calmly, leaning into his chair cozily. They sat in peace, listening to fellow spectators finding their seats and vendors starting their rounds. Of course, Allen and silence were never long in company.

Kanda sensed an excessively close presence to his side and braced himself for the deluge. He glanced over surreptitiously, not at all surprised to see a wide-eyed, purposeful Allen staring at him with the characteristic exploratory aura emanating from his earnest face. "Kanda," here the uplifting counselor tone, "do you like baseball very much?" Ah, well, at least it was a relevant topic this time.

"Yeah, I do." He gave up on surveying the game field and reclined, putting an arm around Allen and leaning towards him. "It's really popular in Japan, you know, it's like our favorite American thing…I guess."

"So…you know all about the rules and such?"

"What?" Kanda looked down reproachfully. "How rude!"

"Eep!" Allen giggled as a merciless finger found its way under his jacket and into his ribs. "I know the rules well enough…"

"I'm more of a football fan myself…are they similar at all?"

"Not really," Kanda eyed the stands with growing alacrity, sitting up a tad straighter. "But the game's only half the fun."

"Hmm?" Allen blinked bemusedly as Kanda rose and sat at the end of their stand by the aisle. A frown developed as Allen watched a peanut vendor approach Kanda's new seat and a pleasant conversation unfold. _What is he doing… he doesn't have any cash…_ Allen looked down at the diamond at the sound of cheers and the blare of a marching band to see the teams entering the field, but scarcely had he turned his head when a suspicious flash of movement reclaimed his attention to his partner's direction. "Did he just…" Allen squinted in uncertainty as Kanda returned smiling softly and the vendor moved on blushing slightly.

"Here we go…" Allen kept his eyes on the satisfied Asian, an expression of horror evolving while Kanda tore the corner of the peanut package with his teeth.

"Kanda! You _stole_ that!"

"Eh. We pay enough for tickets as it is-"

"Kanda, this is not about money, this is about morals!" Unphased, the berated snacker deposited a sizable pile of savory nuts into his palm and then into his mouth, listening placidly to the intense yet contained chastisement. "You tricked that nice lady into looking away and then you swiped a package of- no! Absolutely not!" Allen stared aghast at the offered peanuts. Kanda shrugged and consumed them heartily, observing the arrived players keenly. "Those are tainted! They're contraband!"

"Okay," Allen scowled and faced the field himself, "I'm just surprised you're not hungry." Players and coaches scrolled across the big score screens at the ends of the field and commentary galloped over waves of conversation.

"Hot dogs! Get your hot dogs!"

"Popcorn, popcorn! Cooome and get it! Hot, buttered, popcorn! Coooome and get it!"

"Weeeeegotyourpretzelsright here! Pretzels! Right here, folks, pretzels!" Allen glanced morosely at his mildly scowling companion.

"So we're looking at a gggreat game tonight, folks-" He scooted a bit nearer, "We got our boys out and they're ready to go, kiddos!-"

"Kanda…"

"It's time again, everyone, together say-"

"May I have some peanuts?"

"PLAY BALL!!!" Cheers fell like confetti from above them. A healthy helping of salted game fare spilled into Allen's anticipatory palm.

"Knew you couldn't last."

* * *

"Chisuko…" Allen nibbled the tip of his thumb, doing an _excellent_ impression of an informed and disappointed sports fan's wife.

"Is that another set, Kanda?" From its reclined position on the back of his chair, Kanda's head turned and he dragged his fingers off from his eyes.

"What?" Allen swayed slightly in nervous agitation. "Oh…no…it's another _strike_," the exasperated actual sports fan sat up from his defeated pose and squeezed his partner's knee encouragingly. "But we play better outfield anyway and the game's only about halfway over." A slight drizzle, more like a mist than a rain, had indeed started and a tentative wind puffed it through the bleachers. Kanda felt refreshed by the biting cold and so looked about for a source of entertainment to boost his spirits. The commentary screens provided a wonderful distraction. "You know why we're ten points behind, Moyashi?"

"Hm-mmm," Allen shook his head no with his sympathetic distressed look still in place.

"We haven't been cheering enough…"

"Ooohh…"Allen's eyes widened as Kanda gestured with an open hand to the ponytailed, short skirt and tight top wearing girls on the screens, energetically pumping the air and dancing.

"Well, what should we say then?" Allen braced his arm rests with determination. "Just a simple 'Go, Team, Go', or some player's name, or is there a team specific rhyme?" Kanda rested his chin in a propped up hand, rubbing his thumb against his jaw in contemplation.

"No…we've got to do some good baseball cheers…oh, perfect- we're outfield, let's goad the other team's batter." He stood up pointedly and cupped his hands around his mouth. He leaned back with a measured inhale. "SWIIIIING, BATTER, BATTER, BATTER, BATTER!"

"My gosh!"

"SWIIIIING, BATTER, BATTER, BATTER, BATTER!!!"

"Kanda you're frightfully loud!"

"I am?- oh good, come on, you've got to do it too now. SWIIING, BATTER, BATTER, BATTER, BATTER!!!" Allen stood meekly, looking at the few other farthest of the far back seat inhabitants as if for permission. To his surprise one of the nearest parties had joined Kanda in his raucous cries and so he bravely took a breath and added his voice to the din.

"SWIIIING, BATTER, BATTER, BATTER, BATTER!!!"

"Ha! Look at that! STEERIIKE!! We cheered him into missing!"

"Two more, right?"

"Yeah, good job, Allen," Kanda bumped his smaller date in camaraderie, "you're catching on." Allen smiled sweetly and returned the jostle shyly. "Hey, here's another baseball cheer…it's my favorite," Kanda cleared his throat and delicately shut his eyes as he prepared to shout, Allen listening attentively all the while. "Ready? Pay attention and learn it, it's very useful." Allen nodded, missing the residual twinkle of mischief in the obsidian eyes. "RAH, RAH RI!!! KICK 'EM IN THE KNEE! RAH, RAH, RASS!!! KICK 'EM IN THE A-"

"KANDA!!!"

"-AH OTHER KNEE!"

"KANDA! I can't believe you!" The unforgivably naughty elder heckled at his junior's affronted response.

"This is a family event, there are children in the audience and you were going to say a crude, vulgar, inappropriate-"

"No, no, no, I wasn't!" Kanda managed between snickers, "that's _exactly_ how the cheer goes!"

"Well-well… it _implies_ something completely rude and odious!"

"Hahahahaha!" Kanda was rendered completely unable to communicate at the appalled and righteous expression of his condemner. The rain picked up a bit and the whistle blew for a time out.

"Men…" Allen muttered darkly, without a trace of irony, which bettered Kanda's self control not in the least.

* * *

"Vvvvvv…" Allen burrowed further into the borrowed sweater, scootching as close as possible into the warmth of a moody Kanda. The rain came down with their team's score, plummeting far and forcefully. The baseball fan, cap dripping onto the water proof pond stretched around both he and his seat sharer into a sea, glared serenely at the muddy field.

"And that's another strike, folks, we're back in the outfield." A collective groan from the stadium challenged the heather clouds.

"Well that sucks," Kanda stated listlessly. Allen nuzzled his face into a strong bicep, frowning sympathetically at the soaked players below. His stomach grumbled piteously. Kanda heckled kindly, squeezing the lap-sized Allen with good humor. "It's about that time, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" Allen grinned sheepishly and patted his tiny tummy comfortingly. "I guess I better go to the concessions stands…all the vendors got out of the rain." The ref's whistle rang out as Allen removed himself from his perch on Kanda's knees and they swapped jackets again, Allen finally departing with a smart whack to his bottom. The seat holder watched the snack seeker until the navy beanie-clad head bobbed out of view behind the stairwell to the lower tier of seats. "Aahh…" a cloud of condensated heat faded before Kanda's line of vision as he crossed his legs and reclined in his plastic chair, regarding the diamond with aloof detachment.

...

"Um, three hot dogs and a medium soda please."

"Five forty-seven, kid." The middle-aged, bear-bellied receptionist turned to relay the order back as Allen stepped to the side of the window and began counting out pound notes.

_Geez, Kanda wasn't kidding- it's not cheap to eat here_. He glanced up at a roar from the stadium, seeing the away team reach second base with a shameful lack of opposition.

"Haaa…" he returned his attention to his coins, exacting the necessary amount and folding up his wallet with distracted disappointment. He looked up as the server sat his order up at the window and exchanged the bills for food eagerly.

"Hey, kid! It's a pound too much, here," Allen pivoted, wide-eyed and hot dog stuffed into his mouth. He swallowed as fast as possible and waved a free hand dismissively.

"Keep the extra," he managed around condiment bathed sausage, remembering with slight exasperation the peanut fiasco. The man shrugged and Allen commenced ascending the steps.

The metal stairwell faced away from the stadium's interior and, for much of the voyage, was under the upper tier and thus provided a dry consumption site. To this end Allen took his time, munching and sipping his merry way back to the nosebleed seats and idly keeping an ear open to the commentary (but mostly enjoying his meal). As he reached the uppermost steps, licking hot dog #2's excess ketchup from his fingers, a manic cheer shook the bleachers and he turned around to see a baseball speeding high into the air on the score screens.

"And it's going!- going!-" The camera panned out to show the ball as a speck headed towards a vast expanse of equally minute faces and the megaphones further amplified the thrilled shrieks of the spectators. Allen, hesitated, suspended in the awe of the moment, before turning and dashing up the slick steel, hoping to reach Kanda in time to share the most exciting baseball occurrence. As he reached the top however, sheltering the remaining hot dog with the utmost care, the tone of the euphoric cries altered disturbingly to one of confusion and uncertainty. Allen's pace faltered as the commentator's habitually perky voice came wrapped in befuddlement. "What in the heck is that, folks? What in…Good God, people, is that what I think it is- is that- is that what it _looks like_!?! Is that a- a- is that a _person_? Jumping off the stands?"

_No, no, please, no…_ Allen turned slowly towards the screen again.

"And what in the name of tarnation's he got in his hand, folks, is that a- a- holy Helen of Troy, that's a sword, my friends, indeed it- oh my God." Allen winced, rotating full circle and then dropping his jaw at the scene that greeted him on the jumbotron. Kanda was soaring off of the top tier, ponytail swishing out behind him and baseball cap snuggly on his head. Mugen was indeed in hand and Allen's gape widened beyond possibility as he saw Kanda mouth the words "Mugen, activate". The frenzied sentences of the commentator passed through his mind without meaning as he gazed at the not so subtle samurai plunging in a crash course with the fly ball. He lurched violently as all his senses awoke simultaneously and nearly lost all sense of priority and dropped the hot dog before, drink and death defying dog in hand, he erupted in a full out sprint back down the stairs. He hit the first tier floor with a jolt and glanced from the screen to the audience, eyes frantically searching until the swiftly falling dot that was Kanda became visible. Panting, he set off at record speed, tilting his head against the rain and barreling through clusters of shocked sports fans with no apologies.

_What is he doing!!! What was he thinking!!!_

"Aaaah!" a dramatic cry tore from Allen's throat as he burst into the section Kanda was descending upon. He glanced out at the screen to see a front view of what was before him, a chubby, young girl grinning as she stretched out her hands, the baseball sailing on a direct path towards her, Kanda twenty meters above with a grim look of concentration. Allen closed his eyes and pushed himself forward, feeling as if he were moving in slow motion, thrusting against brick instead of air. He looked up, seeing through rain-blurred vision the pig-tailed kid in profile mere meters away and the baseball closing in on her while Kanda closed in on the baseball. He put his entire being into running and yet he knew there was no way he could make it in time. He watched in horror on the screen as Kanda's feet came down on the chair back in front of the red-haired kid and with the motion of his landing, brought Mugen down in an arch, cleaving the hide-covered ball in two.

The kid began to bawl and Kanda stared out triumphantly at the field, chest heaving languidly from powerful exertion. A second of silence turned into raucous screams. Kanda looked around as the child's mother came to her and her father flung obscenities at he and the surrounding people. The cry of "security" passed with electric speed from mouth to mouth and two burly, shade sporting men appeared, towering over the crowd. Allen plunged though the panicked masses, reaching out for Kanda's arm.

"KANDA!" He set the hot dog and soda down with little reluctance (he was fast losing his appetite). "KANDA!" the black fringed head turned his direction and allowed himself to be pulled after Allen, hopping down from the chair just as security reached it. With as much haste as possible, the pair ran from the stadium, cameras following them to the ticket booths at the entrance and crowd in an uproar about the mysterious swordsman who had fallen from who knew where.

* * *

Allen sighed lightly as he closed the door on midnight blue street lamp stained brown in favor of his dimly lit entrance hall. Kanda took their wet clothes to the mudroom while Allen passed a hand over his face and decided an Advil was in order as shufflings announced the approach of Tiedoll.

"Hello…" he met Allen in the kitchen, coming in from the living room and the faint blue tinge of the tele. Allen smiled bravely before downing the pills and taking a seat at the kitchen table. "I saw you on T.V.," Kanda quietly closed the sliding wooden door against the hum of the dryer as he entered the room, "how was the police office?"

"Not so bad," Allen remarked wearily, but not angrily. "We paid a fine for public disruption, agreed to a restraining order from the stadium, and then they let us off." Tiedoll eyed Kanda and then Allen with well concealed attention, confirming that all was well.

"Ah. And how was the game?"

"Well," Kanda put a hand on Allen's head as the smaller of the couple continued to speak, sipping a bowl of sake and offering hot water with a tea bag to the speaker, "I think it was a lovely time for the only game we'll ever get to see there. Even though we lost…" Tiedoll reached over and added sugar to the steeping tea as Allen turned curious gray eyes towards his partner. "By the way, why were we for the home team anyway?"

"Oh," Kanda returned to the counter momentarily to refill his dish, "I liked their uniform better."

"I thought it was something like that…" Allen, for the thousandth time that day, sighed in exasperation.

"So all in all a good date?" Tiedoll's mustache flopped up at the edges.

"Yes, a good date," Allen smiled back gently. Tiedoll chuckled as he rose and began to return to the couch , patting the weary Brit's folded hands on the table as Kanda hugged him around the neck and kissed his silver head.

"And of course the date is only half of it," he grinned. Allen shot him an incredulous look.

"You think you're getting some tonight?" The embrace tightened momentarily and Kanda replied irresistibly,

"I _know_ I'm getting some."

Allen poked him slyly in the stomach and chanted softly, "Rah, rah, rass, get some in the-"


End file.
